


Embracing the Brokenness

by VesperSpeaksInTongues



Series: The Atlas of Voden [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, CC-1010 | Fox Needs A Hug, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Grumpy Old Men, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Implied/Referenced Torture, New Republic Politics (Star Wars), Protective Older Brothers, Sheev Palpatine | Darth Sidious Being an Asshole, War Crimes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-15 18:15:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28817673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VesperSpeaksInTongues/pseuds/VesperSpeaksInTongues
Summary: Sidious has fallen and the Empire has fractured. The New Republic is tentatively re-building itself, navigating the  strained relations and open wounds left by decades of harsh Imperial rule.Fox has survived to see the new dawn, despite the immense challenges levied on him as a clone soldier and the crushing despair left by his life as a Sith puppet. He is bitter and jaded; really only looking forward to a peaceful death of his own chosing when he is called to speak before the New Republic Senate and comes face to face with the only being capable of ripping his old scars open to the bone.
Relationships: Riyo Chuchi/CC-1010 | Fox
Series: The Atlas of Voden [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2112837
Comments: 23
Kudos: 89





	1. Owning his rage

**Author's Note:**

> Kintsukuroi:
> 
> The art of repairing the shattered with gold lacquer, and understanding the piece is more beautiful for having been broken.

Fox's stomach churned as he and the other clones who were chosen to speak waited in the ante room off of the semi-permanent senate hall of the New Republic. Bit by bit the Rebel Alliance had pushed back imperial remnants, evicting them from their long held occupations. The planets and systems had begun rebuilding themselves, sending delegates to the newly formed legislative body stationed on the planet Chandrila, to represent their interests, fill their needs, and hopefully restore some order to the chaotic void left by the fracturing of the Empire. 

The sudden arrival of several hundred-odd aged clone troopers at the Rebel Alliance base on the moon of Endor, freed by Ahsoka Tano from a backwater prison camp on the outer rim, had caused quite a stir. She presented them as political refugees, but just in the case that their request for sanctuary was denied, and as they didn't even have the dignity of being considered sentient beings, she also harshly stated her protective ownership of them. Every single one. 

The clones represented an uncomfortable reminder of the flaws of the previous incarnation of the Republic. The most feared military force in the galaxy at its time, they were commanded by the Jedi Order. Staunch peace-keepers the jedi were; the irony of presiding over such a force was not lost on them. They had been illegally genetically engineered by the Kamino cloners, a fact that was decried by many in the High Republic, at least until the first shots of the clone wars were fired; then it was providence that there were so many guilt-free bodies to be flung in the path of the aggressors. Despite their heroic deeds and unflappable loyalty, the fans that clamored for news of their favorite troopers, and the bucket bunnies who stalked the armored men in the bars and clubs near the military space port; despite all of that they had only ever earned the right to be property. Bought and paid for by republic taxes.

The previous democracy had touted slavery as illegal and needed to be punished with the utmost prejudice. The idea of ownership of another being needed to be wiped from civilized society, clear to the outer rim and beyond! But when faced with separatist droid armies at their doorstep, the million plus physically superior flesh and blood soldiers provided by Kamino were instantly called up and put to work, and their status as non-sentient draft animals was conveniently ignored. The Republic had a war to win… the details could be ironed out later.

Indeed, their mere presence made many of the old guard delegates squirm in their robes, presented with the remnants of a "problem" of their own making... an uncomfortable truth they would have to face. Some shouted that the clones must be jailed as war criminals, murderous butchers… unfeeling executioners:

"They slaughtered the Jedi! They served the Empire without question!" 

Others hoped to put the troopers to work as part of the war effort against the Imperial cells that still operated separately across the galaxy:

"But they are fierce soldiers and they know the Empire's tactics!" 

Either way, the clones were still seen as a product by many, to be re-purposed or discarded; at the end of the day they still didn't seem to have a voice to speak for themselves.

Ironically, it was the remaining council-members of the RA (the most functional military organization in the New Republic) that had opted to present the clones as beings worthy of a choice in the matter. Leia Organa had developed great admiration for them over the past few years as Commanders Rex and Wolffe served with the RA in its struggle to survive. Her father, Bail, had spoken respectfully of several clone soldiers over the years, some with the same reverence and praise he gave his fallen Jedi comrades. She was horrified to see the outright distrust and hatred that many still held for the clones and was heart-broken to realize they had no legal recourse to defend themselves; just quick fists and quicker minds to give them enough space to run and the sense to know when to do it. Leia had always been more soldier and less politician. She wasn't going to let this go without a fight.

The rebel military forces, as it is, had gained a deep respect for these men as leaders, soldiers, and as human beings in general. At first it came begrudgingly - with a nod of approval for a brilliant tactical maneuver here, or a friendly clap on the shoulder there, but by deeds and wisdom the two clone commanders had won over one rebel after another. They proved indispensable in whipping the ground forces into shape, essentially forming the first actual organized infantry of the RA forces. What once had been a mismatched rat's nest of rowdy brawlers, swaggering cowboys, and jumpy greenies barely old enough to shuck off the title of "youngling" was quickly morphed into a well oiled machine, capable of making a hundred men feel like a half a thousand. They were competent. They were sensible. And they were utterly unimpressed by anything the Empire could throw at them.

When the New Republic senators recoiled in panic and disgust from the timeworn clones, the RA had surged forward in a protective embrace. The two former CCs were nearly moved to tears by the devotion, and Rex's own lieutenants were witnessed checking their blasters for readiness with cold efficiency. He'd spilled his own blood time and time again for his troops and they were inclined to return the favor.

The Alliance had enlisted Princess Leia and General Syndulla to gather speakers from among the clone troops to present their stories to the senate. Chancellor Mon Mothma was inclined to welcome the session as an example of the need to overhaul the galactic military forces as a whole; holding the systems themselves responsible for their own protection, and not shouting for the RA (with a clone battalion) at every turn.  
Organa had gathered first the men she knew personally - Rex and Wolffe, who had freed themselves during order 66 and had operated independently of the Empire for years. They in turn brought in ARC troopers Echo & Fives, who had both suffered immeasurably at the hands of the Empire and survived, and who were living as good-hearted guns for hire as part of the unconventional yet efficient Bad Batch. Finally, to round out her presentation of heart-rending misery, Leia selected Cody, the former Marshall Commander, and himself, the nastiest bastard the Coruscant Guard had to offer. They were both lifers in the Imperial army. Both carrying top ranks and responsibilities and credentials. Both broken beyond repair by their existence for the past 20-odd years. 

The others were relatively comfortable with this endeavor. They were heroes, having survived hellish experiences, and presented themselves as the best possible results despite their lifetime of social programming, servitude, fighting, and killing. Even Cody had maintained his honor and blazed forth brightly with his redeeming moment - he had chosen to desert and live to raise his adopted son, rather than die a miserable death within the Imperial machine. Good ol' Fox, well… he was just a piece of shit loyalist; not a single decent action to his name. Why in the hell would she want him to speak?

They were announced, and walked solemnly into the small arena to take their places at the central dais. Fox felt his stomach flip several times as he squared himself at attention as best he could, wincing against the icy crackles of pain from an old back injury. So many eyes were studying them, like they were some strange new species. So many condemning faces turned to whisper to each other. They hate us, he realized.  
There was a hum of muted conversation from the assorted delegates. Some looked too young to have ever seen a clone in the flesh. Others looked old enough that they probably had scraped clone off their boot during the days of the Old Republic.  
He spotted the RA representatives - Leia Organa was there, with her new age Jedi, Luke Skywalker, at her side. Also that Solo asshole, a reformed smuggler or some bantha-shit. She was an alright kid, Organa. Fox had decided that he liked the girl when he'd witnessed a burly mercenary speak crudely to her at the RA base, and the petite creature had gone up one side of him and down the other like a rabid tooka, shortening him to half her size in the process. She would have made a fine general during the clone wars. Fiery and fearless. Extremely curt and to the point. Must have gotten that from her mother, Queen Breha. Bail was far too gentle.

He fidgeted as the others stepped forward and spoke, knowing some of their tales and hearing others for the first time. Much of it he wished he'd never hear again.

ARC trooper Echo discussed his imprisonment at the hands of the Techno Guild, under guidance from Sidious. He had been subjected to numerous experiments where much of his brain was hijacked by cybernetic implants until he was turned into a living computer that would play a twisted game of chess against the Republic forces. Rex had particularly vexed the separatist generals, as he was the brilliant tactician behind much of the 501st legion's success. By the time the Captain was able to rescue him, Echo had lost his legs below the knee and much of his right arm, and most of the neural implants proved too dangerous to remove without crippling him.

Fives regaled the body with his tale of internment under Sheev Palpatine. His mates thought him dead - shot by the CG after he had been drugged into madness by Palpatine's grunts and accused of violence against the Chancellor. You see, Palpatine had noticed Anakin Skywalker's fondness for his troops. He had been warned by the Jedi council to mind his feelings, but the man couldn't justify holding them at arm's length when they fought shoulder to shoulder and shared so much grief together. He thought of too many of them as friends and brothers. When Fives presented as a possible hitch in his scheme to eradicate the Jedi via their clone army, Palpatine also saw the potential to utilize the ARC trooper as a persuasive tool, and ordered the CG to "detain him covertly". Upon waking he found himself as one of a rapidly expanding assortment of blackmail tools that would eventually be trotted out to persuade the fallen Skywalker to remember his place whenever the Sith apprentice became too loud or defiant for his own good. The Sith Master had kept a whole stable of bargaining chips to keep Vader subdued, even presenting the younger Sith's deceased mother's desecrated remains at one point. Fives was starved, beaten, tortured; subjected to more and more nightmarish experiences as the years wore on, then nursed back to relative health as needed for roughly eight years before he was discovered by Echo and the Bad Batch, more dead than alive. Fox quaked inwardly over fives words, carrying a heavy guilt for his part in his brother's misfortune.

Wolffe told of the death of his beloved General, Master Plo Koon, who had adopted his clone soldiers as sons in everything but the law. The Jedi master was known to bodily carry injured troopers for miles to find them medical help. He regularly abused his privileges as a general to provide extra nutrition and comforts for "his boys". Upon order 66, their biomechanical programming had compelled them to murder the man they called "Buir", "Father" in Mando'a. Wolffe shuddered at the memory. He had removed his inhibitor chip covertly, having discovered troubling intelligence about the implant after Fives' "death". When the order came down he lost his mind at the sight of his brother's opening fire with cold efficiency on Plo Koon's fighter. He raced to his dying general, only to be ordered to run. "Live for yourself, my son," were the Kel Dor jedi's last words. Moments later Wolffe was on the run from his own men after they witnessed him attempting to save the Jedi - a clear violation of order 66, which marked him as a traitor. After several years when Sidious' use of the inhibitor chips began to wane and the dissenters had mostly been eliminated, the troops began to slowly return to their senses, becoming lucid again and realizing the gravity of what they had taken part in, what they had done with their own hands to their Generals and friends. Wolffe had heard that several of his good men had eaten their blasters, they were so tortured by what they had wrought upon Buir, screaming for his forgiveness in their nightmares. 

Rex stirred the crowd in profound ways as he related his experience with order 66. He remembered falling under the thrall of the programming, the surge of violence and rage that had welled up within him at Sidious' command. He had turned to his dearest friend, the love of his life, and raised his blasters to her person as if it was the most natural thing in the world. The part of him that was drowning was fighting violently, writhing in horror at the crazed impulses taking hold. He managed to garble an obscure warning before his mind snapped and the blood lust took over, before he opened fire and tried his damndest to end her. His inward struggle had alerted Ahsoka Tano to the danger and earned her a half a step of lead time to defend herself and escape. He had hunted her for at least an hour afterwards, determined to spill her blood in the name of Lord Sidious. It was only when she had subdued him, and forcibly removed the inhibitor chip from his brain, that he returned to his senses. He had a choice then: serve the military and the ruling body, which his entire life had trained him to do, or protect an innocent being with all the strength he had. The clone mantra had been "Good soldiers follow orders." Fighting side by side with Jedi such as Skywalker and Kenobi had taught him instead that "Great soldiers question if an order is right and just." The first proper choice in his life was to walk the hard path. He chose justice. He chose Ahsoka. Together they fought their way free of her battalion, the 332nd, and buried his brothers after their venator had crashed on a remote moon. Today they stood as husband and wife, having fought side by side for years since the incident. His choices established him as a man, not a machine, he said, and he would not be treated as less by any being. Ever again. 

Fox floated in and out of his mind during Rex's speech. It hit far too close to home. After the initial furious purge of the Jedi temple, Coruscant had erupted in chaos. The CG received droves of arrest warrants for defiant politicians, and he had rushed to scoop up as many as possible before they escaped. One name had jumped out at him. He knew that Riyo Chuchi was important to him for some reason, and he wanted to be the one to arrest her. When he arrived with his troopers at the senator's apartment, her detail fled with her towards the port. He remembered drawing his blaster and ripping off shots as the target and her crew sprinted towards their ship. The Pantoran female had turned to glance back at him and he chose his target. Her countenance shattered into despair as he raised his blaster and it shook him hard enough to put his aim off. His bolt struck high and to the right, near her collarbone. The ensuing fire-fight left several other Pantorans dead, as well as a few troopers, but the Senator had been carried aboard the ship and spirited away. He was made to pay dearly for his missed shot.

Cody stepped away from him, squeezing Rex's arm as the two men traded places. Cody stood tall and proud, introducing himself as a commander that had faced off against their forces numerous times. He had received his orders from Sidious. He had ordered his men to fire on the beloved General Kenobi, the esteemed Negotiator. He had served as honorably under the Imperial banner as he had when he wore the Republic Cog. And he had lost his faith in everything. As the years passed, and his mind slowly became his own again, he found himself in the midst of a depleted clone force and a substandard army. The Empire was at the peak of their strength, their ranks swollen with well meaning citizens who thought they were serving the cause. He saw the suffering that the Imperials left wherever they passed and worried for the severity with which they dealt with struggling peoples as well as the casual ease with which they utilized slavery to fuel their machine. He found that no dissenting voice had any power to change anything. Looking outward from the Empire only promised death for a wayward clone at the hands of the subjugated peoples. He represented everything that had destroyed their lives and there was nowhere for him to hide if he went AWOL. 

As the clones aged their usefulness was considered waning. Bitter and floundering, he was sent to be the head of security for a remote base. What he discovered there chilled him to the bone. Prisoners there were used as lab rats, as black mail tools, as uncomfortable reminders to unruly politicos. Upon investigating mournful screams he was horrified to find a Jedi Padawan who had been kept there since before the Republic fell and was being used in some sadistic breeding experiment. She recognized him, begging for death to ease her suffering. Instead he promised her life, and their escape had been miraculous. He had looked after her until her death a few years later, hoping that protecting her tortured body and broken mind from further abuse by the Imperials would be his first step in repaying his own tresspasses.

Fox realized why he was there. The five brothers who precededproceeded him were good men. Decent. Honest. By all rights they were heroes. But it would be entirely unbelievable if all the clones were portrayed as knights in shining armour with bruised hearts and broken bodies, seeking peace and freedom and the pursuit of happiness. There had to be the juxtaposition. That was him. He was a fucker. Miserable and violent. He was the monster that the public had heard about; the proof that stereotypes have a truth somewhere. The killer. Murderer. The one who came in the night and took children's parents away. He was the balance in this scenario that maybe would validate the good, honest men that had spoken before him.  
Fuck it. What was he hoping for anyway? 

He only suffered guilt for one man and he had put himself at Fives' feet and offered his brother a blaster, full well expecting the scarred ARC trooper to place a bolt between his eyes. Fives had waved the weapon away, dropping stiffly to embrace Fox, whispering that too many Vod were already dead for foolish reasons. Fives suffering had left him wiser of thought and gentler of heart. Fox's… well… his years only allowed his bitterness to ferment to a potency that would choke a Krayt Dragon. 

What was there for him now? His career - gone. The empire - crippled. He was practically geriatric, slow and stiff. Not worth much to anyone. May as well seal his death warrant with a flourish. What better soap box was available to unload his memoires de mis and show the New Republic what dimwitted, naive, self-serving morons they truly were.

Cody motioned him to the podium.  
Fox stood quiet for a moment, then cleared his ragged throat a few times. 

"Ladies, gentlemen.." his voice dragged along the scar tissues in his larynx, the words clawing their way out as if through a mouthful of crushed stone. "Senators, dignitaries, representatives, and whatever the hell the rest of you may be… I am the nightmare creature you were all told about. Clones like me gave rise to the stories you heard whispered at cocktail parties, in the bars and pubs, and the lounges at your jobs."  
He paused, seeing the confused disbelief on many faces… savoring the uncomfortable whispers caught.

"I was Commander Fox, the highest hand in the Coruscant Guard. I had a few superiors who would pass orders and such, but generally I answered directly to Chancellor Palpatine, or the Emperor…. or Darth Sidious… or whatever the fuck you'd prefer to call his scabby, wrinked ass. I wish I could spin a few tales of good deeds and brave missions... or the time I pulled a litter of tooka kits from certain death, but it really wouldn't balance out the raging trash fire that was the existence of the CG."

He heard more whispers, saw glances of disgust tossed back and forth. Good. Cunts. I'm glad I make you nervous.

"Early on, my duties included overseeing the city-planet task force, and providing escort and body-guard services for the wealthy and powerful. Occasionally we would have to step in and rescue the police force when their job became too horrifying to stomach. Retention of clone troopers of any rank, as well as citizens, and extra-planetary travelers, was always my jurisdiction. Hell, I even had the power to arrest and jail Jedi, as it were. As things progressed and the separatist war escalated, Coruscant became far more volatile and Palpatine's expectations more demanding. When events didn't go in his favor he began craving a more satisfying outlet for his fury."

He chuckled wryly at the thought. 

"I recall the first time I saw him really karked off. We had been ordered to arrest a political shit-stirrer; he was able to flee the planet moments before we arrived at his docking bay. That was the first time Palpatine reached for my throat and I realised things were *very, very* out of control within his mind. And I didn't speak of it to anyone. Not a word. Perhaps I thought I didn't say anything because it was my choice, fool that I was. Commander Fox of the Coruscant Guard… choked nearly to black-out by a feeble old man… with magic powers… who certainly wasn't a jedi. But - One beautiful nuance of our biomechanical inhibitor chips was that they made orders from him stick. Forever. Or it seemed like that. When he ordered to me that a word of our debriefing would never be spoken or documented beyond the barest of details, I was never able to move beyond it. That order lasted until the moment he died. My mates saw me collapse in a twitching heap… the hell that had been locked away in the most secret parts of my brain surged forth and I was an incoherent mess for about thirty-odd hours after that."

He paused for a sip of water, his throat becoming uncomfortable with the prolonged use. 

"My misfortune was that I was extremely effective, so he used me for everything. I was the one who would arrive with troops and haul your spouse off to be executed for "treason". I was the one who was so damn good at making dissidents turn up murdered and political opponents "disappear" or "commit suicide". I have tortured information out of so many beings and falsified so damn many statements for the higher offices that trial by jury could only yield their preferred results. Why did I do all of this? Why couldn't Commander Fox say "No, this is wrong, I refuse!" Because a phantom hand wrapped around the very controls of your mind and body is something none of us poor di'kuts in this room could fight off. Well, most of us."

He glanced to the young Jedi by Organa's side, offering a nod of acknowledgement. 

"If further encouragement was needed on my part to comply... Well, for the regular trooper, dragging of the feet or failure to succeed resulted in instant death. I was a favored pet of the Supreme Chancellor, which earned me special privileges. I didn't get to die. So I damn well better get the job done if I didn't want to see my boys snuffed out in my place, paying for my failures."

He held up his left hand, the fingers permanently flexed into a claw, the knuckles misshapen and inflated.

"Crushing the delicate bones in the hand and wrist is extremely effective encouragement. Easy to hide. Easy to treat. Eventually the repeated trauma does cause lasting damage. He had better sense than to harm my better trigger hand, that one was too valuable."

He glanced at his curled digits, flexing them experimentally before dropping his hand back to the podium with a sigh.

"Hyper-extension of the joints was also a favored "exercise". Generally this was performed while I was suspended in the air. Increases the severity of the mental trauma, having nothing to grab and hold on to for an anchor…"

He paused, his mind drifting in and out of the terrifying memories as they lined up eagerly to be shared. Shame after shame, each more mortifying than the last. He shook himself and continued on, plucking another treasure from the pile..

"Choking…" (he grunted at the word, the noise emphasizing the gravelly wheeze that he spoke with, rather than the rich baritone of his brothers) "Choking was a favorite practice of his. Crushing of the throat and compression of the chest. Never to the point of unconsciousness, though. He knew right where that began, and so he would hold me just shy... right at the point of panic where you were certain that death was coming. My larynx was crushed and repaired a number of times, but bacta can only do so much when there is little undamaged tissue left to rebuild." 

He smirked inwardly. More and more senator's faces were clouding over with horror. A few looked to be fighting back nausea and one delicate looking female was fighting to hide tears. 

Fox leaned a forearm on the podium, his back starting to twitch with cold electricity from the tension of the moment. Stooping gave a little relief and he rubbed a palm over his jaw, fussing over how to explain the next jem plucked from his treasure trove of experiences.

"We were experts at gathering intel, the CG were. Palpatine knew a great deal about manipulating people. Knowing that secrets flow more freely in a comfortable, casual, relaxed atmosphere, he thought it ideal to toss us around as party favors to the elite of the galaxy. We clones were considered beneath notice while in polite company, but there were plenty of rich, powerful scum bags out there who couldn't resist a hard bodied rough-neck soldier as a personal plaything."

He waved a hand dismissively at the crowd. 

"However many of you who have done your business on Coruscant over the years… I'm sure you know someone who has snickered over their night with a guardsman… and for someone like me… my troopers… it was 'Shut your eyes and be proud of your service to the Republic!" 

He slammed his raised hand down on the podium, hot fury welling in his gut at the memory of a young trooper who had curled into a ball in his office. The lad had been barely year 9, a shiny without a name yet, and had fought tears so violently it had put him into a panic attack. Fox had held him and ordered the boy to breathe properly, choking on his own dread over the abuse that had been wrought on his innocent body. That he couldn't protect his trooper from. That he couldn't protect himself from.

"My Men! Treated that way!! Traded by our fucking Chancellor! To be used! BY POLITICIANS! SENATORS!! REPRESENTATIVES!! PEOPLE LIKE YOU!!"

His voice broke on the last words. The young trooper had taken his own life just days later, unable to cope with what had happened. That and the realization that he was charged with defending those very same people every day at the senate building. The house of "Justice and Democracy". Fox lashed out, swiping the items from the top of the podium, the water cup shattering against the dais and the datapad clattering rudely in the shocked silence of the chamber. 

Fox was seething, his fingers gripping the podium so forcefully his knuckles cracked. He counted off CT numbers in his head, to draw himself away from the hurricane of rage and hate that had roared to life in his chest.  
He drew a few deep breaths, until he was certain he could speak clearly once more.

"Yes. I was Commander Fox. I was the clone you should have been afraid of. These men…" he pointed behind at his brothers… "These men are the best of us. They represent everything we could have been. The urge to serve and protect even in the face of the worst misfortune. These men deserve to be treated as such not just by their brothers, but by every damn one of you and every soul you represent. And I.." He jabbed his gnarled thumb into his chest, his growl taking on a weary note, "I am what a clone becomes if he is repeatedly ground under your boot every day of his life. Not a man worthy of a voice and the privileges of the law. I AM an animal. I have no honor and no virtues worth saving. Execute me if it assuages your guilt over the hundreds of thousands of others who weren't given the benefit of a second thought. I don't care."

He swallowed dryly, his eyes dropping with the finality of his statement. He'd said his piece. They knew what kind of beast he was. They could appreciate how kind and brave and decent the others were because of him. Turning he quietly left the podium, his knees a bit unsteady from the pain in his back and the weight in his heart. A hand wormed under his arm with a reassuring squeeze and he looked up into Fives' gentle smile. Fives, too, had been at the mercy of Palpatine's whims. He could appreciate the poisonous terror that was locked away in the recesses of Fox's mind.

They moved towards the exit hallway, the others falling in around him as a group. Their heads high and eyes sharp. They're guarding me.. he realized. I don't deserve it.  
Noise was heard building from behind them in the senate chamber, and the speaker was calling the members to order. Then the doors shut and the voices muted, and he drew a shaky breath.

"Fekking winds and tides Fox…"

He looked up in time to see Wolffe reaching for him and he instinctively winced at the advance. 

"Easy brother… you're safe with us." The grizzled man embraced Fox, squeezing him tightly. It wasn't hurtful, though. And Fox dropped his forehead on to the hard shoulder, suddenly exhausted as if he'd been on a rotation-long grind in the lower levels. 

A large hand rested itself on the back of his neck and a face joined him by Wolffe's collar. 

Rex. That fekking insufferable wunderkind. He only hated him because he was everything Fox would have wanted to be. He got out. Lived his own life. Was a war hero.. A rebel. Took a wife for fuck's sake. Lucky bastard. He smiled weakly at the man as Rex's fingers worked the stiff anchor muscles at the base of his skull. 

"You did well brother," the bearded man spoke quietly. "I can appreciate how hard that must have been…. but please…. please…. never call yourself an animal again."

"You suffered longer than Fives and I combined." Added Echo. "You were in the thick of it from the very first. You have every right to speak of it without fear of repercussion."

"That… an' it must have been satisfying as hell to tell a bunch of bureaucrats how worthless they could be." Fives smirked and leaned an elbow on Echo's shoulder. 

The voices from the senate chamber were growing louder and the men glanced back where they had exited, their nerves screaming to be ready to defend themselves. None of them felt safe here, and Cody had been the first to suggest that they prepare an escape plan if things should end badly. He wouldn't be subdued. He had a boy who needed him. 

They traded quiet glances, silently agreeing that it was time to go, when a single shrill voice was heard rising above the din. It sounded like a female. And she was pissed. It wasn't Leia - her tones were deeper and more husky. No… this voice was bell like… but was clashing like thunder. It raged and echoed, undulating within the walls… harangued and threatened and shamed. It gave them all pause.

Whoever that was… well, they all shared pleased looks. 

Apparently they had a new friend.


	2. Everything that was lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fox reminisces on the few good memories he has of the Old Republi:; of love found and then lost. And he encounters a face from his past.

Minutes ticked by into what seemed like hours as Fox and his brothers waited, fidgety and anxious. The furious soprano voice had eventually ceased its tirade and a more respectable level of discourse could be heard in the senate chamber. 

Rex had settled in near Fives and Echo, unwilling to waste the few free minutes he had with them simply because of legislative proceedings. The ARCs were especially his little brothers and he mourned their loss bitterly all those long years ago during the Clone Wars.

Fox watched them from under his brows, hunched over with his forearms supported on his thighs, his fingers threaded together just so that they had something to do. He had little brothers once… Lads that he had loved well and taught how to find the little pleasures they could afford in their life: how to swipe a bottle of high quality spirits that definitely would go to waste in the contraband locker… how to thread a speeder through air traffic at deathly speeds and whip oneself 180° and give chase with a deft movement combined with some well timed air brakes… how to covertly take holos of certain lovely senators, so that their smiling eyes could lend some sun to the darkest of days…

He glanced at Cody and Wolffe, who were standing… pacing slow circuits around the lounge as they shot the breeze. Wolffe was shyly asking after Cody's son, Drake, who was nearing ten years - a grown man, if he had been a clone, but the youngling carried none of Cody's blood… only every beat of the heart that pumped it. Drake was a good boy: dutiful, calm, thoughtful… they saw how he watched Cody with such absolute adoration and awe. None of them would begrudge Cody the love of a son, but they all did share a good-natured envy for their brother's little family. To belong was perhaps the greatest wish of any clone. They would suffice with brothers if that was all they ever had, but to claim a unique bond… a spouse… children… something that was yours alone… it was like grasping at the starlight in the dark sky. Beautiful to behold but too distant and profound to gather into one's arms. 

Rex however… Fox flicked his eyes back to the nodding bearded face. He had a mate… they'd made their promises to each other… perhaps he might be able to make a little one or two before time claimed the light from his eyes. Fox glanced back to his fists with a heavy sigh. Such fantasies were not for him. He was too old and broken to be much use to any female now. And too bitter to ever be a good partner or father to anyone.

A soft chime announced approach, and the door to the outer concourse hissed open, revealing Organa's Jedi. They all stood respectfully at his entrance, even Fox (who grunted as he straightened).  
Luke waived them down to their seats, obviously embarrassed by the gesture.

"Please, Sirs… I'm just a simple man like any of you. No need to stir yourselves."

"Ah, General..." Rex clapped a friendly paw over the knight's shoulder, "You aren't much like us at all.. Your kind are a gift from the universe… ours just come out of a catalog," he explained with a touch of snark.

There were small chuckles at the remark; the men were all still too tense to relax fully, not while the bodies in the next room were discussing their fate.

Skywalker shook his head at the comment, fixing Rex with a concerned look. 

"I came to see how you're holding up. Those were some pretty intense things you had to say. Leia was worried for you and I could feel how terribly exhausted you all were…. The representatives… they needed to hear those things. They can't be allowed to be ignorant of Sidious' crimes." 

He glanced at each of them individually and Fox felt the barest touch of the Jedi's mind against his own. It was polite and unobtrusive, allowing Skywalker to judge his emotional state without prodding. He did appreciate that about the Jedi. You never had to verbally tell them to leave you the fuck alone. He was certain his brothers glanced his way out of their peripheral vision. He hadn't spoken a word while waiting. Just kneaded his hands in brooding silence. 

He saw the toes of the young man's black boots stop before him and Fox raised his eyes, arching a brow in wordless inquiry.

"Commander Fox…"

"Just Fox, boy." He growled.

"Sir…" continued Luke, "You're in pain. Can I send a medic? Or…"

"S'nothin a medic can fix. Leave it be." 

He knew he was being rude, but the last thing he wanted was anyone fussing at him. He hated that. Pity. More than anything else.

Skywalker nodded, letting the issue fall, and Fives strolled to them, all piss and bravado, even past his prime. And after all the shit he'd endured the man was still karking beautiful, his smile effortlessly radiant. 

"Master Jedi… who's the femme that made such a ruckus? Couldn't understand most of it, but her words sounded hot enough to thaw out a dead tauntaun on Hoth." He folded his arms and tilted his head quizzically, like a curious pup. 

"Oh…" Skywalker thought for a moment. "She's a Pantoran. Not a senator.. some kind of mutually elected chieftain of sorts. The only one above the governors of that system." 

Luke quieted, his face betraying worry. 

"One senator called for the execution of the clone soldiers as war criminals. The lady stepped in front of her senator before the sentence was even finished and stated that if such a proceeding was mentioned again she would rally her entire military… ten planets strong… and forcefully remove the men to safety. She says by the right of "shared blood" you all are worthy of citizenship among the Pantoran, and the sister planets of the system support that claim."

Fox knit his brows in confusion. What in the hell was he talking about?

"Eh?" Wolffe gave voice to the same sort of thoughts. "What's this about? I've never heard of such a thing… You lot have any friends on Pantora?"

The other's shook their heads in denial, but Fox had receded within himself. He withdrew a memory… dim and dusty… but so well loved that it still held a bit of luster. He had known a Pantoran Senator once… before he had been forced to forget her by cruel fate and Kaminoan biomechanical engineering.

Riyo Chuchi. 

So soft and sweet Riyo was. Not fierce and loud at all. She brimmed with a quiet strength instead, presenting as a diminutive blue-skinned mountain - serene and immovable. As she had become friends with the much more defiant Padme Amidala, Riyo had found her voice and it regularly graced the senate hall with wisdom far greater than her seventeen years should have allowed. Walking side by side with the likes of Amidala, however, drew a target on her back and Fox was often charged with protecting the young lady.   
His forces tended to be stretched thin, and Fox opted to pull escort duty himself, spending hours at the lady's side and always finding reasons to assign himself to her detail. She wasn't as attractive a target as Amidala, Bail Organa, or Mon Mothma, he reasoned. Therefore, it was likely he could handle her escort by himself, freeing his men up for more difficult team assignments. It took him a bit to admit she left him warm under his duraplast armor, her breathy laughter was so genuine and unencumbered and her smiles broke wide with the aura of a life-giving star. She spoke honestly about her feelings and carried a great deal more empathy for her fellow being that the average Senator he shadowed.

And him. She spoke to him. With him. 

Of course everyone spoke to him… but most non-clones only saw the red and white armor of the CG. They spoke at that. Carry this. Get out of my way. Do that. With Riyo it was different.

His name was constantly on her lips. She chattered away amiably, asking him about himself… his home… his family… she wanted to know about his life! He tried to remain vague and anonymous, but she eventually found his weakness. Well, any clone could be swayed by making his stomach happy - they really were simple creatures at heart. The sly minx won on two fronts… gaining his companionship by bribing him with distracting treats, and forcing him to remove his helmet to taste them. 

He remembered her face the first time he'd pulled his bucket off. Her lilac colored lips had pulled to an "oh" and her eyes had widened in shock. He was mortified for the moment, thinking her displeased… but then she'd flushed darker blue-purple in her cheeks, thrusting the nutty honeyed pastry at him and peeping from her knuckles as he shyly tried the snack. Her giggle at his sigh of absolute delight had remedied the tension and they had demolished the entire box over expensive caf. Fox had needed an extra hour that evening to sleep off the carb load.

It took him forever to believe the naked truth. Riyo had been taken in by his rich voice. She had been stunned to find a "dark skinned honey-eyed adonis" under the helmet (her words… never his). But the first time he'd blushed at her gentle touch, the lightest swipe of her thumb across his chin… well… 

It wasn't long before she was requesting his guard services at her cozy apartment in the Potter's district, swearing shady figures were lurking in the night.

"Commander, I hate to be such a burden… can't you watch over me this evening?" 

He never would have entertained the possibility that someone like Riyo Chuchi would even acknowledge his existence, much less recognize him as a man, or ever choose him as a lover. He never allowed himself that hope for a moment…

Fox was used to being used: a tool for a specific job, whatever it might be. Riyo was different - she never asked anything of him. 

Well, OK, she did demand a few things: that he was only permitted to use her title if his helmet was on… that the helmet was not allowed to be worn in her private space… and finally she asked that he be honest with her always. 

He thought that was not an awful list of requests… until one evening when he was floating on a cloud of contentment, watching her putter around her space, chirping little abstract things as she was wont to do when brainstorming. He was settled with a cup of fine roasty caf, divested of helmet, gloves, belt; and indulging in the smallest fantasy of domestic bliss. Perhaps she was his wife and perhaps he'd just got home from his shift. Perhaps he would pull her down in his lap when she came near, just to hear her giggle. Perhaps this was real… 

Riyo must have caught him staring and drew close, a strange look coming over her. 

Then she asked too much.

"Fox…. What are you thinking?" 

His balls had crawled into his guts.

He wasn't allowed to tell her that. It was unprofessional! Fraternization was against regs! She'd be disgusted, a filthy clone fantasizing about her... maybe even afraid of him... She'd send him away! Demand a different guard. She'd not feel safe to be alone with him. He couldn't tell her that.   
He'd betrayed her.

He remembered fleeing the place. Remembered cruising the skyways on his bike until sol peeked up over the city horizon.   
He'd gone straight to work with a rotation of stubble on his chin and dark circles under his eyes. He didn't return to her that day. Nor the next. The third day he walked into a door casing on account of his lack of sleep and Lt. Thire had ordered him off to get some damn R&R. Fox knew that he was endangering his men by remaining in such a state and he needed to settle things. Get his head straight. He'd tell her the truth. He'd apologize and promise that one of his lieutenants would tend to her security needs. He would say a quiet goodbye..

It turns out she had not reported to her office for days, sending word that she was unwell and confining herself to home. He found Riyo in her apartments, looking rather the worse for wear. He was certain she'd been crying, as evidenced by the raw look of her eyes. Certain it was his fault, Fox wanted to fling himself off the balcony. But he had promised to always follow her rules. He removed his helmet, bearing his own haggard countenance, and proceeded to shuck the more obnoxious pieces of his kit. Finally he turned to her, misery plain on his face.

"You wanted to know what I was thinking… I know I promised to tell you the truth… but I was afraid… so I ran like a coward."

Her amber eyes widened, anxiety thick within them. 

"I want to kiss you, Riyo Chuchi."

There was a pregnant pause and she examined the floor intently, before straightening herself and blinking her eyes softly closed. 

"Proceed, Sir, please."

He couldn't believe his ears. He expected at the very best a polite chastising, certainly not this.

Proceed sir…

He did. Stars he did. He kissed her until they both were whimpering from the intensity of the exercise and the exhaustion of several mutually sleepless nights. Kissed her until her lips were puffed and swollen and her eyes were shedding great tears again. Kissed her until he wasn't certain where he ended and she began.

"God's, Fox, take me to bed."

He might have blacked out for a moment. 

Riyo laughed and snuffled at his mental crash before gripping his face between her palms. 

"Darling man, I haven't slept for days; you left me so dejected and miserable. I wasn't sure what I had done wrong… you looked so sweet and happy…. And then suddenly horrified!"

Her face puckered and she slammed her palm on his chest plate in frustration. 

"And now you show up and kiss me silly and I'm tired and cross and blubbering like a fool! Fox… YOU ASS! Don't you dare ever do anything like that to me again!"

"I'm sorry Riyo… I'm so sorry.. I didn't know what to do! I thought you'd be horrified if I spoke my mind!" He stammered, just as exhausted and scatter-brained as she was.

"Fox… how can someone so intelligent be so dim??? You think I didn't know you fancied me? Commander... I adore you and you are absolutely oblivious. Now… you are nowhere near forgiven. My mind is a little more comforted, but your punishment needs must continue. I demand to be put to bed and properly kissed until I manage to fall asleep!"

She crossed her arms and glared at him defiantly… and his dumb ass broke down in hysterics. They eventually did fall into bed, laughing softly at their situation as they snuggled into each other's warmth. It was Fox who managed to sleep first. Riyo instead fought to stay awake just so that she could burn the image into her mind permanently. He woke up in her bed many times after that, always with her smell melded to his skin and the taste of her on his lips. 

She hoped… she hoped that after the war she might convince the Chancellor that she needed Fox's services to organize a proper police force on her homeworld. It would likely take ages before he would be able to step away from such a duty… could he bear to be stuck on Pantora for so long?

And then it was gone. 

Three words erased everything that had been between them. 

Every bashful smile. Every gentle touch. 

Execute Order 66. He had raised his blaster and pulled the trigger. He never could remember why he missed until years later after he was shipped away to the outer rim with the other defunct clones. Palpatine discarded him.. forgot about him… and the dark lord's thrall had weakened. 

Fox had crashed from his cot, the horror that he should have felt at the space port that day surging forth and drowning him. He had wept… screamed… mourned so violently he was retching on his hands and knees. 

He had shot her.  
He shot his Riyo.

"Fox?"

He opened an eye a crack, finding Cody squatting before him, peering cautiously. 

"Where did you go, Vod?"

Fox grunted. It had been a better place. Soft and fresh. Bittersweet… but that is still 50% sweet, at least. Skywalker was eyeing him curiously, no doubt feeling Fox's turbulent emotions. 

"Someplace that's dead and gone, Cody." 

Fox stood slowly and rolled his shoulders, shaking the threads of nerve pain away. He crossed the ante room to the concourse doors. "I need a little air… walk… a bit."

He slipped into the hall, crossing to the windows that overlooked the pristine gardens of the pavilion. Such care had been taken to keep an air of casual beauty here. Not fussy or overly groomed. Weeping willow trees and creeping roses… she would have enjoyed it.

He leaned there staring at the scenery, not really seeing it. He let his mind fall numb and quiet. There was only his ragged breath and the thump of his heart. If only he could stop those too… but in that challenge, Fox was a failure. He didn't have the resolve Wolffe's men did when faced with their tresspasses. 

He registered noise in the hallway behind him and faintly became aware of the crowd moving from the senate chamber. He wouldn't look at them. Give them the satisfaction of his dismal mood. 

"Commander Fox…"

Lightning crackled down his spine and he twitched harshly.   
A voice as sweet and fresh as the breeze after a spring rain…

He lifted his head to see the Pantoran delegation approaching. There was a young male dressed in distinguished looking robes… likely the senator… several burly looking body guards… and the female who had threatened the senate so fearlessly…

His stomach churned, his vision darkening at the edges. She had heard him. She had heard everything.

●●●●●●●●●●●

Riyo had arrived only that morning, having raced at all careless speeds to reach Chandrilla in time for this session of the Senate. Charon Bal, her senator, had sent a missive that the issue of clone soldiers had been added to the agenda, and several men were to speak personally. She dropped everything and sprinted to her ship, her guards cursing her all the way. 

Amraque had demanded to know why this was so important that she must rush without even packing properly. She had sat swirling her winter berry wine, wondering where was the proper place to start her explanation. He was an excellent body guard, but he worried excessively.

She had known clone troopers in her day. They were good men. Honest and devoted. Fearless. Kind. Yes, their kindness was key. They never gave voice to their circumstances, never decried their lot in life. Instead they served tirelessly and honorably. They didn't deserve their fate. 

Order 66… the Jedi purge… it had been a terrible nightmare. The newscast had came on suddenly and her communicator was inundated with messages. There was such confusion and little facts to be found, but by that evening it was beginning to be clear. The Chancellor was staging a coup. Somehow the soldiers had eradicated all of the Jedi. She dared not go to the senate hall, fearing for her safety. She sat instead begging the fates to bring Fox to her so that he could explain this horrible mess. But then she had seen him on the HNN, arresting representatives at the steps. Her insides went cold. Something was twisted and wrong - Fox and his men acted with such harshness, such violence. She had never seen any clone trooper behave like that.   
Her retinue begged her to flee and though the woman in her wailed at the prospect, the senator knew that discretion was the better part of valor. She was mere strides from the safety of her ship when she heard him shout.  
The next moment he was pointing the business end of his blaster at her. 

She nearly died. Not from the blaster wound, but the shrapnel flung by her shattered heart.

Time wore on. Back on Pantora, she watched the newscasts for glimpses of him, and her belly began to swell with life. She wept, both for the joyful gift of a child and for the loss of its father. 

Years passed and the rebellion against the Empire took hold. All at once several blessings arrived. A young jedi knight pledged his loyalty to them. A quick thinking smuggler and his wookee friend brought priceless intelligence. Amidst all this some wayward clone troopers were making a name for themselves among the rebels. She heard bits and pieces about engineered mind control being the impetus behind the clone army's betrayal. It gave small solace to the regret she'd carried for more than twenty years.

The senate chamber had been full of hushed whispers and anxious rumors. Princess Leia had presented the Rebel Alliance's position of protection for the clones and requested the senate members hear deposition from a few of them. She was determined to lend her support, if only just to honor Fox's memory. 

The men entered and she was shocked at how old they had become. She knew they aged far quicker by design, but they were only physically a few standard years ahead of her, and yet looked far older and more worn. Her heart ached for their scarred bodies and tired eyes. 

The things they spoke of turned her stomach. She was angered. Disgusted. Agonized over the tortured stories they had to tell. She recognized Rex - Anakin Skywalker's man. She had liked him a great deal. Cody, the Marshall Commander. She couldn't not know him. Then Cody gave the last man the stand. He looked so incredibly beaten down. So disenchanted. He looked as if he barely had the will to live.

Then he began to speak. He held such bitterness and disdain, she could practically see the poisonous vapors escaping as he talked. His words dripped with sarcasm and he curled his lip with disgust for the people who watched him. She ached for him, this wretch who was so finished with existence, who was flinging himself on the figurative blade not for a cause, but for the relief it promised.

"I was Commander Fox…"

Stars… merciful fates… he was alive!

Barely.

But he was alive.


	3. A thread of fate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fox faces Riyo Chuchi, more than twenty years after he tried to end her life. He was expecting fury, but he received something entirely different.

Riyo dug her nails into her thighs, pain biting at her even through the fabric of her pants.   
Her head was spinning and her stomach clenched and flipped in intervals. A high pitched drone was humming in her ears, painfully loud… but not so loud enough that she couldn't hear Fox speaking. From all around she was aware of representatives stirring in discomfort. Beside her Charon Bal clapped a hand over his mouth, a low groan of horror escaping as he absorbed the aged clone's words.

Fox…

Gods, he had suffered so terribly… for so long. She remembered times when she would find bruises on him… terrible marks… she worried for the danger of his job, but he shrugged it off, steering her away from the topic with his lips and hands. Sometimes he would just curl into her arms and lay there for hours and she worried for the weight sitting upon his shoulders, that it would crush him for good one day.   
She clamped her teeth over the knuckle of her first finger to bite back a scream. How could she not have seen what was happening to him? Why didn't she press him? Demand answers? How damn naive and blind she had been! She could have… she could have done something...  
Riyo stared ahead at him unblinking, unwilling to lose sight of him for the fraction of time the simple motion would take. 

He finished, his shoulders slumping in defeat and the others flocked to him protectively, escorting him from the chambers quickly. 

Riyo listened as the voices grew, angrily arguing over the rights that the clones deserved or lacked. All were in agreement that someone needed to be punished, but not everyone thought it would be the Empire. 

Then…

" They were the empire's pets… their killing machines. The atrocities the clones committed at the behest of their masters are unforgivable. They should be executed as war criminals!"

Riyo's voice rose above the din, all of the anxiety and rage poured from her and she told the senator *exactly* where he should busy his mouth. The crassness of the shout quieted the crowd and she was able to blaze brightly within the echoing chamber, the heat of her fury threatening to turn them all to charcoal and ash.   
She lashed at them for their lack of empathy for the men; the belief they still seemed to hold that the obvious purpose of a clone trooper was to fight or die. She reminded them that their New Republic charters protected all sentient beings, and if they doubted the clones fit that description… well, two of them had the mental and emotional capabilities to lead the Rebel Alliance ground forces through numerous successful campaigns, all in the name of re-establishing democracy - how could the senators not recognize that? If one of their earliest acts as a new government would be to knowingly choose to eradicate a race of people, they may as well hand things back over to the Imperial holdouts and save themselves much grief. She informed them with unwavering defiance that remote little Pantora had spent the entire Imperial era fortifying themselves. They allied with their neighboring civilizations not just to trade for foodstuffs and goods, but also collaborated to build their armies. She brokered the peace accords between the worlds and was accepted by all as a strong voice who kept order and offered wise and fair council, and as such they treated her as a universal chieftain, worthy to speak for them all. If she said mobilize, the alliance of the Pantoran system would come. They would come, and forcibly remove the clones… their brethren… from the danger of persecution.

She spun on her heel and stormed out of the chambers, still seething despite the cleansing harangue she'd given. Riyo heard the tapping of boots and knew the Pantoran retinue was at her heels, ever devoted to her vision and leadership. She planted her hands on her hips and huffed in disgust, the revulsion at the senator's words still curled in her belly as if she had swallowed whole a Pantoran con-octapuss, mixing with the ache that still stewed there from Fox's words. 

Fox….

She shook herself to clear her head. Fox needed her help. She had lain down her terms to the senate - they would move forward regardless and vote on the executive action to be taken. She needed to focus on him now; his needs... his protection. His face swam before her eyes - the sunken cheeks and dulled eyes. Dashing a stray tear from her own, she grimaced at the knowledge that he was terribly sick or injured or both…. And likely had been for a long time.

"Be you alright? Honored Ol'mara?" A strong hand settled on her back, the palm warm and comforting. She turned to Amraqe, finding his mouth set in a thin line of worry, his amber eyes searching hers tenderly. 

"Yes… I… I apologize for my outburst. I must have embarrassed you all. But… I cannot allow these men to be harmed. They were pawns… who never stood a chance… who rarely had someone fighting for their rights… or even acknowledging their humanity! The atrocities were committed against them as well as the Jedi, and all the other repressed citizens. Now, the few who would speak for them at assembly are dead and gone… I must assume that role."

"But, Eminence…" Charon Bal began. "They were protected by the Jedi temple, were they not?"

"They were commanded by the Jedi. Owned by the Republic itself. Such irony in that, but I suppose offering them rights would mean the Republic would have needed to face its own hypocrisy. Do you know how much a clone soldier costs to create, grow, and train? 342,900 republic credits each*. Likely more for a clone commander. How obscene is it that we can put a monetary value on those men? How much would you sell your son for, Senator?"

Charon Bal made a choking sound, obviously disturbed by Riyo's candor. She sighed and paced the width of the concourse and back. She had started another path when she heard doors activate from farther down the hall. A tepid curiosity led her to stroll towards the noise, staring hard at the grout between the cream colored stone tiles. As the curve of the hall rolled on before her, a figure came into view, slumped against the great duraplast windows, staring out at the gardens. 

His hair had been streaking white at the ears all those years ago. Some jokingly blamed stress, but he'd said the white had been with him since he was a youngling, the snowy trails leading to his name. Now the jet black had been replaced entirely by the whiteness. Fox's neuroticism had him in a constant state of anal retentiveness in his youth. Every hair was in place, every inch of him pristine. Now, the white was unruly, the spikes a sign of how often troubled hands raked over his scalp.   
He was dressed in cast offs from the Rebel Alliance, probably begged from a quartermaster somewhere - A sandy colored jacket, likely from a scout ensemble, grey trousers, tall combat boots… he looked like a rebel indeed. Wild… unpredictable… no longer the suffocated guardsman, collared and leashed.

She sucked in a breath, her heart wobbling free of its standard healthy rhythm as she took him in. For the first time in a long time Riyo had to forcefully summon her courage.

"Commander Fox!"

●●●●●●●●●●

Fox chewed back a wave of anxious nausea as Riyo stopped not ten paces away. He had locked eyes with her for only a fleeting moment, but it had been enough. Every carefully built wall, every bit of mental and emotional defense, every defiant promise that kept him stable was crumbling away.   
He locked his eyes to the floor, certain that if she captured them again he would shatter to pieces. 

She had been barely a woman when he first met her, inclined to demure and observe quietly, her confidence was in her intellect and not her public performances. Now, her personality stood a full head taller than the top of her knotted braids, the lilac hair artfully twisted into a manageable bundle. 

She still proudly wore the traditional handwork of her people, wrapped comfortably in a long coat of navy blue stitched with white and silver filigree. She was a distracting figure, Riyo Chuchi was; all vibrant colors and feminine grace. But it was her eyes that gripped him most. The glittering orbs of topaz burned brightly, now with the years of a hardened politician within them. A triumphant leader. A survivor.

Half of him - the hidden half - the soft, weak, cowardly half, wanted to fling himself at her feet and weep against her trousers. Beg for forgiveness for what he had done to her, what he had taken from her all those years ago. Perhaps his greatest shame; allowing her to sully herself with a clone for his own selfish needs. That… and shooting her. 

"Yes ma'am?" He grumbled low, stiffly clasping his hands behind his back. 

"I'm…… I'm glad you're here." Her voice softened for the words. "What a blessing that you're alive."

He shifted on his feet, wanting nothing more than to flee back into the safety of the lounge. "I can hardly imagine why you'd say such a thing ma'am. Survival hasn't been much of a blessing."

She was quiet. For longer than he could bear. Fox raised his head, peeking at her from under his brows. There was a mournfulness about her eyes as she regarded him.

"Are we not… old friends?" 

She took a few hesitant steps towards him, and he straightened, the prickles of agitation creeping through him as Riyo drew closer. 

"It is truly a joy and a relief to see you again."

She had raised a hand tentatively, reaching for him. 

Her approach, however non threatening, had a cold sweat coming at his temples. Instinctively he backpedaled, his hands coming before him to offer protection. The reaction sickened him, that he should jump at the approach of the petite female. He hissed in disgust and discomfort as his back twinged from the sudden defensive motion.

Riyo paused, her face falling entirely at his reaction.   
"Commander… have you been seen by a healer? You're obviously in pain…"

"I'm obviously disinclined to be poked and prodded!" He snarled, awkward shame welling up at his inability to be able to function through a simple conversation.   
He backed away further, but the pain was creeping down his leg and he felt the great muscle in his thigh beginning to twitch with fatigue. 

Fox's head snapped up, panic calling on his survival skills. The Pantoran bodyguards were behind Riyo, keeping their ground, save for the one male who hovered quite close to her, deeper in her bubble than Fox liked. He was far thicker and larger than any other Pantoran he had ever seen, square in the shoulders and wide of stance, his golden eyes glaring harshly from over her shoulder, his broad hands hovering near the DCs hung at his thighs.

Fox had the damndest urge to knock the scowl off of his chiseled frosty face. 

"Commander… please don't be alarmed, I'm not trying to harm you!" Riyo exclaimed, continuing towards him. 

She was going to touch him. He couldn't bear that. Any semblance of composure would flee and he'd recede back to the hysterical mess he'd been for the past few weeks. 

"DON'T!" He bit out, dodging backward again, only to have the complaining leg give out entirely and he slumped suddenly to the side, a choking noise escaping his lips. 

Riyo lunged forward quickly, reaching for him with both hands. And still he fought. Clenching his teeth through the drowning pain, he caught his body weight on his stronger leg. His hands arched outwards from his chest, knocking hers away harshly, his fingers curling into fists.

Then the world turned upside down. 

A crushing impact at his waist sent him off his feet entirely and he was driven squarely in to the stone floor by the bodyweight of the Pantoran guard. Fox's entire body exploded in agony so intense that his eyesight dwindled to the smallest circle of focus: the guard's enraged stare and bared teeth, framed by the coal colored hair that had fallen from the thick Mohawk tail he wore.

Fox tried… he tried to fight back, but his body was too dazed to manage any control over his hands and he wasn't entirely sure which way was up at the moment.

He became aware of muffled sounds and the angry blue face left him, replaced by Cody, who was shaking him gently. He heard a shrill voice… Riyo… was she ok?

"..... the hells is wrong with you, Amraqe?! Why would you do such a thing?!?"

"I was protecting you!" A rich baritone answered. That must be the guard…. quite a tackle..

Fox tried to move but just drawing breath was a struggle, as he felt like a fully armored man was sitting on his chest. His head was swimming and black spots continued to explode before his eyes. 

"Protecting me, Amraqe?!"

"He was going to hit you, Mother!"

●●●●●●●●●●

Riyo sighed heavily as she paced the waiting area of the medical bay, replaying the events of the afternoon in her mind..

The other clones had heard them in the hallway and came to see what had Fox so agitated. They had stepped out just in time for Amiraqe to spear the struggling man off of his feet, all five diving at the lad with the untroubled efficiency of drill sergeants. Fives had hauled him up and flung the boy an easy twenty feet with little effort as Cody had dropped to the dazed soldier, clutching his face and attempting to steady his rolling eyes. 

The other guards advanced, ready for a fight, until she had shrieked at them to calm their asses down or she'd put them in lock down. 

Rex approached her, concerned etched in his face. 

"Madam Chuchi, what's happened here… are you alright?"

"Yes Sir," she waved off his proffered hand. "I alarmed Commander Fox and he did not take it well. This was my doing."

"He raised his hands to you, Ol'mara!" Amraqe had spat. 

"He was defending himself from me, Lieutenant. I had no right to press myself on him. He was clearly troubled by my presence and I lacked the sense in that moment to back down. After what I'd just listened to in the Senate chamber, you'd think I'd be more capable of tact."

"Rex!" Cody called, maneuvering to scoop Fox's shoulders off the floor. "Something's wrong… Fox is knocked pretty senseless."

Echo had come forward to lift the suffering man, the trooper's cybernetic limbs offering more strength and stability in his motions than the others had, and they raced from the concourse, with her hot on their heels. 

Mercifully, the medical center wasn't far across the campus, and her staff had commed ahead for their arrival. The droids and techs had swept Fox away on a triage bed, and the door slid shut, leaving a chaotic silence in the lounge. 

She had been waiting for a few hours now, her delegation having been sent away (even though she was certain Amiraqe and the guards were milling about outside the building, rather than seeking respite as she had advised. The clones had been summoned by Princess Organa for a review of the depositions and the senate proceedings, and Rex had embraced her warmly before leaving, promising to tip a cup with her later and reminisce on old friends lost to history. She promised to contact them the moment Fox was coherent and set to work with her datapad, creating a refugee plan for the men, should events take a turn for the worse.   
She was musing over the repairs needed for a defunct mining camp, the most convenient space she could find on Pantora for housing, when the door chimed and a human healer entered the space. 

He greeted her kindly and gestured in to the ward, inviting her into the quiet sanctuary.   
As they walked he explained that Fox had been suffering several ruptured discs in his spine, and the impact of the attack had caused several subluxations around the injury, rendering him close to immobile from the pinched nerves. That and he was suffering from malnutrition, hypoglycemia, anemia, several cases of bursitis… The list went on. Essentially, the man was in a sorry state. Every inch of him was used up, squeezed dry and left to wither away.   
She clouded over at the knowledge that he was suffering so, but the tech patted her shoulder gently, ensuring her that they'd gotten him fixed up properly and with some rest he'd make a full recovery. That was what had taken so long, categorizing all of the various maladies and planning the treatments around each other. The most pressing matter - replacing the damaged discs with bacta cushions and cleaning out the injured vertebra to be encapsulated in dura-cal, the latter process preserving the damaged bone for good.

She thanked him profusely, clutching his hand tightly between hers, hoping he genuinely felt her gratitude. 

"It was a pleasure and an honor, Ma'am. I was raised by a clone after my parents were killed…. I heard about what happened at the senate chamber… if it comes to it and Pantora must seize them for their safety… I will volunteer my services for the wounded and accompany them in their travels."

He smiled gently, presenting her at the door of a cubicle off of the main ward. She squeezed his hand again as he gave a slight bow, and took himself away to his other patients. 

The door hissed open and she slipped into the dim chamber. Fox was settled in a gurney, sleeping peacefully amidst the hiss of the oxygen that fed his mask. She bent over him, examining his face carefully. In his sedated slumber he was entirely passive, the worry lines smoothed from his features and his lips bowed into a soft pout. 

She knew that face so well, having watched him sleep often in the past. He had always found restfulness at her apartments, and usually within an hour of his arrival he would have dozed off for a power nap, sprawled out on couch or floor in absolute surrender.

She stroked her fingers through his snowy hair, remembering how it used to curl on top. How soft it felt clutched in her fingers. 

He twitched and snuffled, one eye blearily creeping open and then the other with great effort. 

"Welcome back, Commander." She whispered gently. 

He groaned, fumbling at the mask and she removed it for him, cradling his head gently as she pulled away the cords. 

"Why… why are you here… Riyo…" he mumbled, swallowing against his dry tongue.   
She brought cool water to his lips, tending him gently and wiping away the few drops that spilled on his chin.

"Because you are." She stroked her fingers along his cheek, gazing into his eyes with the gentle wisdom that had come of her years alone. 

"Riyo… you can't…." He began.

"Fox…. Don't think for a moment you have the right to tell me what I can or cannot do. I have survived for nearly twenty-two damn years on my own abilities. I choose to be here, and so I am." She smiled sassily, resting her palm on his chest.

"The medical staff has repaired your back, the pain should be eased tremendously, although I suspect you're still quite drugged with anesthesia."

He nodded in understanding, blinking several times as he tried to clear his head. 

"Fox… I know that things won't be easy for you and your brothers going forward. I want you to come with me back to Pantora instead."

She ended quietly, allowing the gravity of her request to sink in.

His face snapped towards her, and he winced from the lingering dizziness. 

"No Riyo! Why would you want that?" He sighed heavily, turning his eyes to the end of his bed. "I'm a monster Riyo! I'm shit! Refuse! I deserve whatever the Republic doles out on me. Offering myself up for my brothers sake is the only thing I'm good for anyway."

"You look at me, Commander Fox!" She demanded, clamping her fingers around his chin and drew his face towards her. 

"You are worthy of a life… one that you've never had! I need you Fox… I'm tired of being alone!"

He snorted irritably at her statement.   
"What of your man… your son's father? Surely he would keep you company? Why the hell would you need me?"

Her eyes widened and he pressed harder, his helpless state laying bare his old wounds. All he could think of was sending her fleeing before he could infect her with his festering despair. 

"Yes, I heard him, Riyo; the one you called Amiraq, the one who tackled me. I don't hold you to any kind of ideal… what we had all those years ago was short and entertaining, but it was never meant to be permanent. I don't blame you for taking a lover… but really, "Amiraqe"?"

Her worried face relaxed. 

"You remember my story then… the Pantoran fable?"

"Yes… Amiraqe, the ancient fox king of your ice lands." 

"Perhaps a gentle reminder of you when I needed it… in my ice fox pup." Her lips curled up in a smile.

"Dammit Riyo! You would name another man's son for me? And for fuck's sake… why is he wearing my guns?" 

Fox's already harshened voice broke. They had come with him from Kamino and protected him until his promotion when he could commission a newer, more powerful set of sidearms. He had kept them amidst his few prized possessions, until he decided they would be more useful at Riyo's hands. She had cried when he gave them to her… and then laughed as he trained her to shoot them. Truly, they were hers to do with as she wished, but to pass them on to another… it felt like the last piece of him that had been safe and was now flung to the wind and abandoned to the whims of fate. 

"Oh Fox… despite everything else… you're still so… 'you'." 

She pressed her forehead to his even as he retreated into the pillow. 

"It hurts you because it does matter… 'Another man's son'.... Fox… Fox, just tell me you love me still, please?"

"Why?! Why the fuck does it matter?!"

He stared into her eyes, his own clouded by the agony that had consumed him. Even more so since her presence at his side was the most immense comfort he had felt since before the fall of the Old Republic, and he couldn't cope with the possibility of giving himself over to it, only to be ripped away again.

"Because then I'll tell you that he wears them because he cherishes the opportunity to feel close to his sire."

Fox had closed his eyes, struggling for clarity… some semblance of self control. He didn't care why the man wore the guns….

Oh.

When he opened them again, his eyes were filled with shocked awe and he stared into Riyo's as the world shifted around him. 

"His… his father?" 

He choked. His voice leaving him entirely. 

That was it. Everything within him collapsed in a landslide. This was why he was still alive. This was why he hadn't just curled up and died every time he'd been so close over the course of his life. Some tiny thread had continuously pulled him forward to this moment. He wasn't what he had always thought.

He was a father. He had a purpose.

He curled to his side, hot tears sliding down his cheeks as a soft moan escaped him. Riyo crowded close, fearing that something was terribly wrong, that his pain was getting the better of him where she'd expected relief.   
But no… he reached for her… finally. Pulling her close and burying his face at her chest as he shuddered harshly.

He cried then. For gods knew how long. The tears spilled out, carrying with them the hurt and despair and hate; all in one tremendous release. Riyo had maneuvered him carefully, crawling into the gurney with him, and holding him tightly in her arms. 

Though diminutive, her arms had the strength to hold an entire system together… rebuild ruined cities and feed millions of hungry mouths. They would defend him from the daemons and the shadows with all their might, just as his had done for her so many years ago. 

●●●●●●●●●●●

-Three standard months later-

Fox glanced up from the datapad he had been studying. A package had been delivered from his brothers with very detailed directions for the contents. He couldn't wait to tell Riyo about it.

He had left Chandrila with her, after the session of the Senate had been dismissed. He had thought he was offering himself up for punishment to spare his brothers, but it turned out that his deposition had the greatest effect on the gathering. The fury at the discovery of the treatment of the clone troopers has stirred the will of many senators to press forward aggressively against the Imperial remnants.   
They had granted the clones the rights and privileges guaranteed to all citizens of the Republic by an outstanding margin. Several systems had offered them room to settle, but the Vode wished only to be given leave to make their own way. They'd been given permissions to salvage from numerous battlezones and bases in the outer rims, asking only that they consult with the Rebel Alliance over their findings. They were currently searching for a place with no name or affiliation to make their home. In their own way.   
He commed his brothers often, and they'd promised to stop and visit whenever they were within range of Pantora. Like a few others, he had opted to make his home apart from them… he had a family to take care of.   
They were after all, Pantoran citizens by the right of shared blood. Essentially they were all uncles to a young Pantoran man, and had obligations to act as a father to him, should his own be unable. 

Riyo had brought him to her home, a lovely cozy estate in the countryside, a half a day's journey from the capital city. He had settled in for much needed rest and recuperation, and now three months on he was beginning to feel alive again. His lovely Riyo, the most powerful woman in this system, sat and tenderly fed him custard and pastries from her own fingers, fussing over his color and his bodyweight endlessly, as if it was just as important as the struggling wheat harvest a few planets over. 

Once he was on his feet, the exploring began, and he shyly began getting acquainted with her house staff. They were all surprised by his sudden arrival, but not displeased. Fox soon found out that Amiraqe's father had a revered memory in the house and was regarded with immense respect and decorum. He feared that he'd disappoint, but they had taken to him with interest and enthusiasm and he'd taken a liking to many very quickly. 

As for his son…

Amiraqe… the Fox King of the icy Pantoran wilderness. "A beautiful tribute to his heritage, both for you and me!" his mother declared.

Fox smiled as he watched from the windows of his study. Amiraqe was leading security trainees in line drills down on the grounds, strolling menacingly before his shinies, a carbon copy of Fox's stern persona.

The lad had balked in shock when Riyo had explained his parentage, having worshipped his father his entire life and was struck dumb at being in the presence of his hero. Not long after he was stammering apologies for nearly breaking his ribs before dissolving into overwhelmed tears. They had proceeded cautiously… Fox - not wanting to overstep in to the young man's space, and Amiraqe - carefully conscious of his father's lingering mental and emotional trauma. 

Their relationship was progressing quickly though… they were, after all, a pair of big dumb kids. Oohing and aahing over blasters and blades, sharing conversation about their experiences and military history, and raiding the kitchens in the wee hours to satisfy their mutual sweet tooth. Fox was pleased to his boots. His son was a fine man, honest and decent, and absolutely devoted to his mother. He was a member of the command team of her private army, and acted as the head of her official security detail, traveling with her whenever she left and guarding her with a ferocity that could only have come from his father's DNA. He looked forward to when he felt strong enough to join Amiraqe on the training fields and work strength and life back into his limbs. His son's mates were eager to welcome the Commander into their fold as well, having been raised on tales of the clone wars and the old republic. As it were, the Honorable Ol'mara Chuchi loved and trusted him, and that seemed to be enough credentials for most everyone. 

He hadn't stepped out in to public with her yet - he didn't want to until he looked healthy and fit… worthy to carry the Lady's arm. The household dutifully referred to him as Commander, and when he sought to correct them, Amraqe had informed him that they would not honor his military title if he wished it, but as the Ol'mara's mate his official title was Lord Consort. Fox had blanched at his mischievous smile and informed him that Commander would do just fine.

As for Riyo, she benefited greatly from his presence, or he was told as much by everyone. Apparently she smiled more, laughed more, teased more… and had regained a great deal of her youth and cheer.   
The best times were after dinner, when they retreated to their suite. More often then not it was simply the peace of the moments. Quiet reading, long conversations over good wine, hours spent plastered against each other, just enjoying their combined breath. He slept peacefully at night, curled protectively around her in their soft bed, where in his first week he was agonizingly bashful about joining her… but he attempted a single night elsewhere and had fled to her after only a few hours. She had laughed softly and patted his pillow, prepared for the slow process of Fox adjusting to being just a regular man.

She had shyly asked for his promise to be hers forevermore and they planned a private ritual for the following spring to celebrate their union with the bashful joy of children in pup-love. The word got out almost immediately and there was a frenzy among the Pantorian system to offer congratulations and gifts and invitations to state celebration on each planet. Then, of course, her allies in the New Republic caught wind… well they would be celebrating for nearly a standard year at this point. 

She was currently tucked away in her office on conference comm, due to be finished in another hour or so. He would tell her then of the news his brothers had sent. Using Rex's newly formed DNA, the result of Ahsoka's desperate (but successful) meddling with the deepest levels of her force powers, Dr. Melcher of the RA had synthesized a gene therapy regimen for the other clones. Rex's body was rejuvenating itself rapidly, and the man was already sporting his youthful blond buzz, after only six months of healing. 

The therapy was difficult and painful, but Inside of a year Fox should find himself in the body of a forty-five (or so) year old man. He was itching to begin, no matter the struggles. He would do this for her, for Amiraqe… but, more importantly, he would do this for himself. 

He had jobs to do. 

He had people who needed him.

He had a family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ol'mara - The title given to Riyo Chuchi by the collective systems she represents; Riyo is not an official for one specific planet, rather a trusted figure that is welcome to give counsel to all planets that have allied with Pantora. While Charon Bal speaks only for Pantora, Riyo has the power to speak for all of the Pantoran Alliance.
> 
> Amiraqe - pronounced "am-ih-rock"
> 
> Charon Bal - pronounced like "carrot", just with an "n"; Bal sounds just like "ball"
> 
> *This figure is inspired from a thoughtful bit of math and accounting done by Nicholas Haberling and Lexor Adams in their article "Secret Clone Armies Part IV: The Total Cost"


End file.
